December Night
by Axel Reight
Summary: A nameless soldier wonders in the fog with no memory of his past. The pain devours him, leaving his gaze dead and empty as he serves the darkness as a puppet. He lurks in the snow of a cold winter's night, trying to find the hero that forced him to recall something very important. Something that perhaps was a blessing and a curse for them both.
1. Blind Past

**Introduction**

 **Blind Past**

 _There was a soldier that let every hand touch him,_

 _Dress him, move his arms, talk for him,_

 _And yet he has never received a name._

 **† † †**

" _You know me."_

" _No I don't!" The Winter Soldier snaps at the man before him. The fragile metal construction under his feet is soon to break the promise of a perfect balance. Yet he ignores it and launches forward to attack the blond hero that he was ordered to eliminate. The other dodges the assault though clumsily, clearly with no desire to put his full effort into the fair fight._

" _Bucky, you've know me your entire life. Your name is James Buchanan Barnes…"_

" _SHUT UP!" He yells as his fist meets the cold metal of the strong shield. The other man is thrown back, unable to hold onto his strength and regain himself. Blow after another is blasted against the firm metal until the two men are panting and glaring at each other with mixed feelings._

 _The Winter Soldier growls on the back of his throat, his eyes scanning his enemy, his mission, with hatred and a longing to spill his blood. And there is something that makes the soldier's insides quiver with an odd feeling of something familiar occurring before him in a form of a tall hero with blond hair. It is odd how his face that has already received a few cuts and bruises has an eerie connection to the past of the Hydra's favorite dog. And yet the loyal killing machine cannot remember the friend he has cherished his whole life after the incident on the train._

" _I am not going to fight you." The hand lets go of the metal shield painted of blue and red, accent of the white star in the very center like a heart of the universe Captain America so longed to protect. The only defense from Winter's rough blows falls through the crack of the shuttle and disappears in the void of smoke and darkness. "You're my friend."_

 _At this point, the Winter Soldier has nothing to say to the other. He grabs the man and throws him against the cold metal of the crumbling shuttle. His metal fingers curl into a strong fist and slam against Steve's right cheek over, and over, and over again, until there is a bright hint of an unfortunate bruise and blood painting the skin._

" _You are my mission!" The soldier snarls and repeats his attacks boldly since the hero does not fight back and lets the other beat him up as he desires. "YOU ARE MY MISSION." His fist is brought back to release a finishing strike against his helpless opponent. His dead eyes scan the bloodied features before him, trying to see what was it that painfully screamed for him to remember._

" _Then finish it." The hero's soft reply sends a shiver down Winter's spine as his fist twitches with uncertainty. "Cause I'm with you 'til the end of the line." A shock strikes the soldier's brain as his eyes widen and glow with surprise as if a sharp flashback of his past has blinded him for a brief second. Before the soldier can react, a heavy metal plank falls from above and destroys the brittle platform sending both men out of their balance. The Winter Soldier manages to grip on the neighboring ledge and watch the hero fall down into the devouring smoke. His eyes are still wide open as he cannot accept the chunks of bright memory coming back to him._

 _The strong body of Captain America hits the water and carelessly sinks him down into its depth. The darkness surrounds him as he descends slowly, even delicately, into the arms of death. His eyes are barely open, his lips want to whisper Bucky's name, and yet he has no strength to even move slightly. There is no time to realize that this is the end, no time to try to convince his old friend that he is who he was many years ago. It is still a miracle to Steve as well as a mystery that Bucky is somehow alive, and the damned Hydra has a good grip over his throat. And yet it is too late now. A shame that out of a thousand strangers he has saved today, Rogers could not save one he has cherished from the very beginning._

 _A hand stretches forward to grab onto the soaked hard fabric of the uniform. Metal fingers clutch over the strap and pull up, away from the water and all the darkness that seemed to claim the hero's body and leave out any chance of survival. The soldier pushes away from the pressure, trying to save the other from the blackness of demise because there is a reason he has forced himself to acknowledge. He remembers that he knew him and there is some connection between them, and yet the past still remains blinding and covered in fog._

 _He pushed Steve's body against the dry ground and looks over him. He knows that the hero will live and find his way home. Now that the mission was failed, Winter does not have to go back to Hydra. In fact, he has to learn more about those vivid pieces of images in his head that tell him that truth is somewhere nearby. And so he leaves, walking along water and then disappearing in the depth of green trees in order to find himself on his own._


	2. Bloody Dawn

**Chapter I**

 **Bloody Dawn**

 _One winter day, they took him on adventure,_

 _Yet the soldier got lost._

 _When he was resting in the cold puddle of ice and snow,_

 _He wanted to weep, yet could not._

† † †

The alarm clock decided to join the list of things Steve disliked about the modern world. It was this little accessory in a shape of a puppy he has purchased in the store last night, and it turned out to be the loudest little bastard in his apartment. Even the kettle was better at singing than the buzzer that stood proudly on the bedside cabinet right next to the man's ear. Of course the poor thing soon found its lawful place in the corner of the room, broken nearly in half and producing its last dying noises before becoming silent.

Captain America shifted in his bed trying to find a comfortable position that would send him back into a sweet slumber. Sadly, Morpheus did not have the mercy for the man, so within a few minutes the blue eyes were wide open and staring at the white void of the ceiling. His chest rose and fell slowly as he stretched over the soft surface of his bed and pushed away the covers. The man left his warm domain without any desire to meet the upcoming day, and yet he knew he had to for the sake of his morning running session. It was a shame that the famous Falcon could not join him in order to roll his eyes every time Steve would pass him with a teasing announcement.

" _On your left!"_ A reminder that Rogers was faster than the other would ring as a pleasant memory and make the super soldier smile as he made his way to the window. The heavy shutters hid the outside view of the city in order to make give Steve a break from the memories of the conflict that has occurred several months ago. The compromise of S.H.I.E.L.D., the chaos caused by Hydra, and of course all those battles that left deep invisible scars in the man's heart. The painful of them all was the fight where he was to discover that his best friend has not died from the tragic fall off the train, but survived without and memory of Steve or anything that has occurred in the past. Bucky has changed in the wrong hands, and now he had no idea if he was back in Hydra, or lurking somewhere outside in the world like a shadow.

Steve inhaled sharply as he pushed the curtains away from the window. A strong glow of scarlet hit his face, forcing his eyes to narrow in order to focus on the scene outside. It was odd to see the dawn painted in bloody shades of red, orange, and pink, instead of soft pastel of a morning aquarelle smudged softly on the sky's canvas. Usually it was the sunset's job to let the admirers enjoy the view of the sun's last fiery farewell before the nightfall, but today was perhaps a different matter. Rogers did not give the eerie sunrise much attention since it could not mean anything more than a change of the weather. It was already a second week of December, and the ground has tasted the winter's cold flowers that fell from the foggy sky at night. It was not cold enough during the day for the snow to stay longer before it would melt, so the people did not have to worry about wearing heavy coats with fur and hats just yet.

Captain stared down at the streets that were already filled with life. Joggers, young mothers, rushing workers that sometimes did not notice the large difference in their exceeding speed and the limit; all of them occupied the outside while it was letting them enjoy the last kind days of vanishing warmth. It was hard to believe that most of those passing strangers were united not a while ago by one danger of extinction. The Hydra could have killed everybody if Steve and the loyal S.H.I.E.L.D. agents did not try their best in order to save the humanity from the tragedy.

Pushing away from the window, Steve closed the shutters once more in order to block away the bleeding glow that filled his bedroom. He ran his hand through his hair, a few short locks managing to escape the flow of the crowd and poked out in different directions. The blue sleepy eyes looked around the room in search for some sweatpants and a shirt that would serve as the comfortable clothing for the run.

Coffee was already made from yesterday, so Steve did not find it hard to simply heat the beverage before adding some milk and sugar. He leaned his back against the counter made out of dark wood as he sipped on the steaming drink. Rogers let his gaze wonder around the kitchen and into the still darkness of the living room where he mostly spent his free evenings at.

After the catastrophe, everyone decided to take a break and try to forget the events that have occurred. All these battles they have fought and came close to losing in became a heavy burden to recall during the snow storms when everyone was trapped inside their homes, alone with their thoughts. Steve thought mostly about the things he could have done in order to avoid any victims during his unpleasant adventure. He even sneaked into the park late at night to train for a couple of hours, hoping to perfect himself more for a potential threat in the future.

Yet Rogers had his mind wrapped around one thing in particular quite frequently; precisely, his old friend Bucky, whom he saw to become a monster in the shadows of the city. Steve wondered every night as he found himself sitting near a warm fireplace, with a cup of hot chocolate in his hands. From time to time, his mind would paint an image of a man with long brown hair sitting by him, wrapped in the same blue blanket, and holding a similar cup with the steaming liquid in it. He would observe the void transform into Bucky with a soft smile on his lips instead of a strict grimace that threatened with death. Steve would always reach out, thinking that the image before him was indeed real, and yet his hand would glide right through making the ghost disappear and expose an empty space before the man.

Captain America looked down at his cup of coffee that was already emptied. He took a deep breath and shook his head, trying to shake away the empty feeling that Bucky was not nearby anymore. The two of them have created a tight bond over the years that war has grasped, and yet the damned Hydra had to destroy the happiness both of them have deserved. On one hand, Steve was grateful of becoming the way he was now: a strong soldier that was to become the shield for innocent and weak, the icon of liberty and happiness. On the other, it was unfair to be in the world that he could not fully call home since the time he has come from has vanished taking all the people he cared for with it.

He placed the mug down and walked into the living room that let a few rays of the rising sun slip inside from the closed curtains. The man stretched his arms and torso from side to side, feeling a pleasant pop in the joints before he has made his way to the door. A sudden creak from behind made Rogers turned around sharply, his eyes darting to an approximate spot where the sound could come from. For a brief second, Cap could have sworn he saw someone standing in the dark corner of the room that remained untouched by the light. He narrowed his eyes as if checking for sure that there was just a shade from the tall closet not a figure of a man. Unfortunately the confirmation of Steve being alone in his apartment did not get rid of a sudden cold feeling that someone was watching him for a moment. Steve swallowed a tight knot in his throat and checked the other rooms just in case to prove his suddenly paranoid mind that he was the only man occupying this area.

After his brief game of Sherlock Holmes, Rogers could finally breathe freely since there was nothing to worry about. He grabbed a towel and swung it over his neck before pulling out a bottle of water from the cabinet. The man opened the front door and scanned the view behind him one more time to make sure for the last time that he was simply hallucinating from the lack of fresh air. Nothing has changed, and so with a new boost of confidence, Steve has locked his door behind him and jogged down the stairs before he was out in the street ready for the long run.

A shadow has shifted from the kitchen and into the living room. A cold metal has met the shelf above the fireplace, nearly knocking off a picture frame with an old yellow photo of Steve and Bucky together. The fingers that seemed to be made of ice grasped the frame and turned it over to the piercing eyes that could see the whole photograph. Silence has filled the room as the shadow scanned the faces of the two friends, smiling at each other in a mysterious joy. A second later, the same frame was lying on the floor, a crack between the two of the men, a few pieces of glass spread over the soft red carpet.

One of the windows that lead outside was wide open, curtains moving apart from the cold breeze, and inviting winter inside. A bright red star on the left shoulder covered in metal seemed to glow as its owner climbed over to the roof with ease. The master of assassinations has leaned over the edge of the building, staring down to the streets where people seemed to become ants before him. There was a runner that has just turned the corner and jogged toward the main street, blond hair glowing in the sunshine. It was him. The mission the killer has failed to fulfill. It was the man that he remembered as he connected a few fragile puzzle pieces and finally made a decision to come and find.

It was the matter of time before he could interact with him. First he was to watch and study, then to move and act. Those were the rules of the Winter Soldier.


	3. Reunion of Broken

**Chapter II**

 **Reunion of Broken**

 _No matter how many times they played with him_

 _All those long cold years,_

 _He still felt lonely._

† † †

Endless road stretched out before Steve as he ran straight into nothingness. The cement was littered in rotten leaves and other objects foreign to the nature's charm. The headphones in his ears blasted music of the modern world Steve was still studying during his free time. He was glad to find out about Steve Jobs first, since the man provided Rogers with a technology of forgetting the surroundings and loosing himself in the world of melodies.

Even though Captain America still could not understand the principle of the new pop music that has taken over the world, he sometimes found himself tapping his foot to the beat here and there. It was curious to watch people dance to the blasting music outside in the streets; each dance was almost tribal and foreign to Steve since he was used to something completely different and formal. The arms moved, legs turned, hips swayed in all different directions and motions that sometimes gave the Captain an uncomfortable impression as he passed the dancers.

Nonetheless, running was something that gave Steve an opportunity to loose himself in time, feel the distraction from the surrounding him challenging world. He was the savior in the eyes of others around him, a celebrity of some kind even. Sometimes it was nice to hear a kind thank you from an unfamiliar stranger, yet there were the aspects of a great annoyance that Steve did not fancy for the sake of his privacy. It was nice for once in his life to become a part of the crowd as he jogged down the steps and then back to the main road.

As he passed an empty fountain near a cold park, Steve decided to take a break and rest on the nearest bench. He leaned his body against the cold back of the seat and closed his eyes feeling the rods gradually cool his heated body. He took a deep breath and gazed up at the sky observing a few black branches of the naked trees block the perfect indigo view. The sun was high above the ground now; the bloody colors of the dawn have already vanished from the horizon letting everyone forget about the eerie scene of the morning.

Steve smiled to himself as he thought of this day being free of any conflict and S.H.I.E.L.D. constantly making contact with him. There was no Natasha, no General Fury, and no marching agents of Hydra…no one.

 _But what about Bucky?_

Steve grimaced and chewed on his bottom lip as worry embraced him again. Where was Bucky now? Was he alright? Did Hydra catch him again? If so, then he must have suffered even more…

All these questions tormented Rogers over and over again until suddenly a shadow passed over him blocking the sunshine for a split moment. Steve shivered and snapped his eyes open; he looked around to find that he was certainly alone in this park area. Perhaps a bird flew by while he was swimming in nightmares of his mind. Though a sudden feeling of being watched has wrapped around Steve making him shift in his seat uneasily. The man turned is head to look behind him and then scanned the surroundings in order to make sure that he was the only one resting on the bench and no soul was close enough to interrupt him. An urge to call out a name has appeared deep within Rogers as his lips began to move by themselves.

"Bucky?" He asked the emptiness, surprised of his own actions. No reply followed his question, only the wind howling in the distance and a few voices of the passing strangers that did not matter at all. Steve elevated his body from the bench and brushed his shoulders, still confused about the odd desire of shouting for his old pal over and over again. He took a step forward and heard a crack of the branch somewhere on the side of him. He sharply turned his head to the left to inspect the tree where the sound has come from, but all he saw was a large black raven sitting on one of the branches and staring at Rogers with its empty eyes.

Captain shivered, he felt the need to run back home and yet there was nothing to run from. The raven croaked and opened its seemingly giant wings before flying off into the distance. Steve watched the bird vanish in the branches and the corners of the buildings around. He narrowed his eyes, not sure what he desired to see in the hurtful fog that was still embracing the horizon far away. For a split moment, he thought he saw a bright red star glowing on the shoulder of some passing stranger before he disappeared in the direction of the raven's flight.

Steve furrowed his brows as his eyes finally left the horizon and fixed on the nearby coffee shop. He tilted his head to the side slightly in order to read the name of the said cafe. The sign read _Starbucks_ and to Steve's surprise it was full of people, especially of a female nature. The man slowly made his way to the shop, crossing the road with his eyes glued to the detailed menu posted on the window. There was a vivid selection between the hot and cold beverages that were matched by the list of sweet treats of all kinds. Chocolate, vanilla, fruit, and many other additions to the long moment of bliss were listed on the wide paper. Steve's eyes could not find rest as they ran from one option to another. The man was not sure why he was suddenly attached to the window, looking inside and watching the girls at the counter pass out the drinks in large cups. Rogers hummed to himself, deciding that it was cold enough outside and warming up before continuing his run would be a great idea.

The man shifted to the glass door and pulled it open by the large handle. A wave of heat came as a slap against his cold cheeks, summoning a small smile on his lips as the body drowned into a warm bliss. Steve proceeded into a welcoming large room full of people and stopped behind a short girl with dark blue hair that was anticipating her turn to order. Suddenly several women gasped as pointed at Steve, it was the sign that some of them have recognized the famous Captain America. Rogers tried not to roll his eyes as the girls began to giggle and put some effort speak to him before others. The man grinned at them instead, and bowed his head slightly in a greeting here and there. They asked for an autograph, an infamous "selfie" the definition of which Steve has learned quickly as the bright screens of cellphones were lifted in the air, reflecting his face before capturing the moment. The whole line became uneven as the girls scrambled from side to side, trying to see the one guilty of the massive disturbance. Luckily for Steve, it was an opportunity to calmly make his way to the counter and greet the shocked barista with a smile. The girl looked like she was about to faint as she took his order of a large hot mocha.

After a few moments of waiting, Rogers has finally escaped the prison of the coffee shop, still followed by the loud voices of girl letting him know how much they loved him. It was the moment when Captain America promised himself to only make coffee in his house and never to let the sinister _Starbucks_ seduce him into its domain.

The coffee soon brushed against the man's lips and made its way into his body, warming it up almost instantly. Rogers sighed in relief as he slowed down from his speed walk and began to make his way down the street. He passed several shops that were also crowded for some reason. It seemed that the cold forced everyone to demand a hot feast almost every day. It was amusing to watch the modern world spin around in its plate; the life has never stopped in the city, and it was always exciting to become a part of it.

Steve never thought that the memories of his passed life would ease off. He used to miss the old times every day, but now he has started his life from a new page with several important memories written down on the side. One person on that page was written in bold. His dear old friend, Bucky, whom Steve cherished more than anything his whole life, has never left the man's head. He was there in the morning, invading his thoughts, and at night before Rogers would go to sleep. Captain remembered every detail about the soldier. His eyes that attracted with joy and mystery, his voice that caressed Steve's ears and encouraged, and of course his lips that needed attention every time Barnes smiled or spoke. The need to press his lips against Barnes's always stalked around in Steve's head. From the very beginning, he was attached to Bucky as if both of them were the lost pieces of one puzzle.

It was odd for Rogers to think that way about his old friend, but the eerie warm feeling has increased since the two of them have met on the bridge, unfortunately not in a friendly atmosphere. The new Bucky was the definition of a cold mystery that Steve could not open entirely. Though Captain took joy in the fact that he did force some distant memories to come back to Barnes before falling into darkness and finding himself in the S.H.I.E.L.D hospital wing alive and healthy. Sadly Steve could not thank Bucky for saving his life that day, and yet till this moment Rogers hoped to see the Winter Soldier again. He longed to speak to him, to make him recall their ancient friendship, and finally ask if Bucky even felt the way Steve has. After all, the sniper was _his_ Bucky.

Steve's thoughts intertwined themselves tightly and formed a large knot in the man's head. It distracted him from the surrounding him world and nearly caused a few accidents on the road that Rogers decided to cross in the unsuitable spot. The loud sound of the horn made Steve jump and dart to the side as a large truck passed him, the driver cursing in two languages at the same time.

"Sorry!" Steve shouted though sure that the driver did not appreciate nor hear the apology from Captain America. The man only shook his head and threw the empty cup into the nearby trashcan before he proceeded further away from the movement of the cars. Even though the coffee was supposed to give Rogers a kick of energy, the man still felt tired and already planned on turning back home.

"Oh, excuse me." Steve murmured as he suddenly ran into a passing pedestrian. The man in a large hood that covered his face did not acknowledge being accidentally hit in the shoulder by another. He did not even turn his head as he kept walking under Steve's confused gaze. Rogers narrowed his eyes as he studied the strong built figure slowly increasing the distance between them. For some reason the person seemed familiar to him even from the view behind. The way he stalked forward, a bit hunched over, and seeming to be lost on a clear street. Suddenly Steve's eyes widened as he saw a hint of silver poking out from the sleeve that crawled up where the man has shoved his hands into the pocket of his jeans. With a gasp, Captain darted forward to catch the stranger; his strong hand landing on the other man's left shoulder and unexpectedly feeling something very cold under it.

The unfamiliar one stopped in the middle of the street right as he felt Steve's presence and touch. The odd man did not move, he simply stood, and perhaps staring into the distance as Rogers swallowed a tight knot in his throat.

"Bucky?" Steve whispered, afraid that he might be wrong again. The strong feeling in his gut told him to continue his interrogation. "Bucky is that you?" He asked coming around the man and trying to peek under the hood, the dark shadow making it hard to see what it contained within.

"Bucky, it's me, Steve. Do you remember me? You saved me that day during our fight and…" He paused as suddenly he saw a pair of icy blue eyes pierce the darkness and stare at him as if trying to burn a hole in his forehead. "B-Bucky?" Steve whispered, his lips quivering from uncertainty. He was not sure if the Barnes before him even remembered anything, since Hydra could have taken possession of him again.

"Do not touch me." The deep hostile voice came from within the darkness and the next thing Rogers saw was an iron fist in front of his face.

Then, there was darkness.


	4. The Ice that Never Melts

**Chapter III**

 **The Ice that Never Melts**

 _Dirt and soot covered his face,_

 _And the ice froze._

 _He watched many people walk above him, never glancing down._

† † †

Winter was grumbling as the thick gray clouds invaded the sky. The darkness of midday forced the innocent civilians quicken their step and find shelter in any open café nearby. They all knew that soon the snow would descend from the frightening blackness and cover the chilling streets with a thick white blanket. The dreadful news reached the minds of the ladies first. Some of them realized that walking in the cold snow on their voguish heels was not an elegant option. And though they could not change their fate, some of them tried to seduce their friends into switching for the warm boots.

The tall buildings became dull as the shadow mercilessly embraced the last natural light. The city suddenly pulled on a new face as if it was a scene from a disheartening movie that was filled with tragedy and senseless death. The trees, already gloomy enough, swayed their nude branches adding sinister to the setting. Passing cars felt the first snowflakes on their windows; the little melting sprinkles turned into heavy icy droplets. It was not cold enough to freeze, but it was a promising consequence of the moody weather that became cruel during the night.

No one could hide from the approaching storm unless they were the lucky individuals to stay at home today. The more they hoped for weather to sympathize, the more it became brutal. The streets were now empty, the houses lighting up as the owners hurried to receive the warmth they longed for. One window remained dark, the opened curtains letting the snowflakes to glide inside and rest softly upon the broken frame of an old photo, the memory of which was preserved for decades.

Steve slowly opened his eyes, the sight of a gloomy room hitting his view immediately. The walls spoke of their old age as there were visible cracks snaking up to the ceiling. The floor was littered in plaster and dust; the thick dirty blanket covered the scarred wood underneath. There was no guarantee that it would hold the great weight of the ancient furniture for long.

The man turned his head from side to side, the right side of his jaw stinging from the blow from before. He hissed trying to touch the injury but realizing that his hands were tied behind his back. Steve was alert immediately and now staring at his surroundings with a sharp glow in his eyes. The room he has found himself in was not a part of his home; therefore Bucky had to drag him somewhere else. Perhaps he was taken to a neighboring building, or a whole different part of the city. Rogers narrowed his eyes trying to see through the pitiful darkness and found a door on the other side. There was a crack in the frame, a little speck of light slipping through and letting Captain America know that there was someone behind it.

Steve tried to loosen the knot over his hands and was surprised to find that it was not even tied properly. Either Bucky did not have experience with a rope or put no effort in the loop on purpose. Nonetheless, Rogers was able to untie his wrists and get up from the chair that already grew uncomfortable enough for him.

The man made his way over to the door, trying to step as lightly as he could. He noticed that his jacket was gone as well his precious iPad. Rogers grumbled something about his magical music rectangle being stolen and slowly opened the door, peaking outside. The light was coming from what seemed to be a small living room. Captain crept over to it, keeping his back to the wall and trying to blend in with the wicked wallpapers.

The first thing that caught his attention was the furniture of the room. There was an old faded armchair turned to face the large window as well as a long couch pressed against the neighboring wall with a pillow and a blanket carefully folded on the side. A small fireplace in the corner was significantly out of shape and there was visibly no way it would provide warmth again. The soot covered floor around it added a sinister feeling to the room as if someone had purposely cause the chaos in it. Rogers took a step inside of the room, grimacing at the smell of burnt wood that remained in the fireplace for several months now.

And then Steve saw him.

Bucky was sitting in the armchair, his head cocked to the side as if he was inspecting something. Captain walked to the side, trying not to alert the soldier and see what he was doing. The later sight surprised Steve as well as forced a small smile on his lips. The infamous Winter Soldier was busy with looking over the man's iPad, pressing several buttons and trying to regulate the volume of the music he has figured out how to play. Steve's jacket that has gone missing was now wrapped around Bucky's shoulder, the hood pushed forward and around the man's neck. The scene reminded Rogers of a curious young man that has stolen from another and now looked over the little trophies of his sneaky adventure.

Though Steve did not get a chance to watch his old pal forever as he suddenly felt a cold blade pressed against his neck. His eyes immediately caught a glimpse of Bucky's bionic arm, the cold metal fingers grasping the handle of the dagger. Rogers froze knowing that one wrong move will trigger the Winter Soldier to cut is throat with no hesitation.

"Bucky." Captain America exhaled slowly and found a pair of darkened blue eyes that seemed to become black in the darkness of the room. "I will not harm you, I promise." Steve's eyes searched for any hope in the indifferent expression the other possessed. There was a long silence choking the surroundings as Barnes stood near his old pal, motionless. The jacket that was once wrapped around the soldier's shoulders was now left somewhere on the floor behind him. The blade refused to leave the hot skin of the man, it only pressed harder against the pulsing veins, ready to plunge right through them. Barnes hesitated.

"I know you remember me." Steve tried to reason again. Unfortunately he had no chance of swatting the dagger out of Bucky's hand as the man would think that Rogers will try to attack. "Look at me and tell me that you are not going to cut my throat, not today at least." Captain tried to smile, though it came out a nervous grin. It was enough to make James frown and sharply pull away the blade before he took several steps back.

"I do not know you." Barnes snapped as he backed away, the bionic fingers grasping the handle of the knife in a position to attack.

"Yes you do." Steve said and took a confident step forward. Since he was now free from a sure death sentence, the man could easily block any attack that Bucky would dare to throw upon him. The Winter Soldier was unstable; his eyes were full of ice and madness that lingered deep within. Doctor Zola did an exceptional work on him, and Mother Hydra refused to let go of her favorite child.

"No I don't!" James replied stubbornly, his body shifted back away from Captain America. "I don't, I don't, I don't!" He shouted over and over again as if fighting some painful memory that tormented his mind. The dagger fell out of his hand as the soldier grasped his head with his fingers, pulling on his hair in great agony of flashbacks. That gave Steve the perfect moment to dart toward the madman and shove him against the crumbling wall. Bucky groaned and glared at Steve with an animalistic glow in his eyes. The prosthetic arm shifted several plates on the shoulder as Bucky rammed his metal fist against Steve's stomach, trying to push the man away from him. Rogers hissed in a shock of pain that blew up in his side but did not let go of his pal.

"Bucky you-"

"Stop calling me that!" Another blow was sent against Steve's ribs. The man could practically hear one or two of the bones cracking.

"Bucky stop it. You know that you remember me, just let the memory overcome you!" Captain America howled in misery and soon was forced to let go of Barnes since the third blow against his stomach summoned a metallic taste into Steve's mouth. The blond stumbled back, wiping the small streak of blood that managed to escape from the corner of his mouth.

"You brought me here, Buck, from the street." Captain noted as he looked up at the wild animal before him. The blue eyes have darkened, the indifference turned into anger and curiosity as the Winter Soldier panted and listened to the man unwillingly. "A while back, when we fought on the corrupting ship… You saved me from drowning and then left me to survive, which I did thanks to you." Steve opened his arms, showing off his perfectly healthy state except of a few hidden bruises from Bucky's hits a moment ago.

"So what? I do not know you!" Barnes continued to neglect the opposite of the statement.

"Yes you do." Steve pressed on. "Do you remember the war, Bucky? Do you remember the friendship that you and I have shared and cherished? Do not let Hydra take over you again!"

"SHUT UP!" James shouted and slammed his fist against the wall, leaving a significant hole in the construction. Rogers opened his mouth to add something but decided that it was best for the information already given to Bucky to sink into the man's mind. After all, Hydra never let her soldier escape the choking tentacles so easily.

Bucky doubled over as he landed on the same arm chair he was occupying before Steve's rude intervention. He hid his face in his palms, trying to gather the running thoughts that refused to come back into an organized line of events. The bright flashes of memory caused a painful headache to pulse in the soldier's temples as he took deep breaths. Rogers watched his broken friend, his eyes full of sorrow as he observed what Hydra has done to a man once strong in his spirit. The damned geeks of Hitler have used James as a puppet in their sacred collection. They shattered him and then glued the pieces back together by their liking, removing the parts that he had no use for and adding the ones that would make him a perfect weapon. No memory of the past, no joyful recalling of the events that have brought a smile to the faces of the old soldiers. Bucky became the best subject of a high level weaponized technology that the world could ask for.

Steve had no knowledge of what torture Bucky had to go through, and yet, he could tell by the state of his old friend that hell was only a soft definition of Hydra's ways. The Captain slowly walked over to the arm chair, lifting his jacket off the floor and patting the dust off of the cool fabric. He then slung it over Bucky's visibly trembling shoulders and giving them a soft squeeze. Winter did not move; a thick mask of thought has embraced his mind and rejected the surroundings around the man.

 _Bucky, you've known me your entire life._

Winter's eyes closed shut, his teeth gritting together as he tried not to gasp in the agony of the sudden recollection.

 _Your name is James Buchanan Barnes…_

"Shut up….shut up…" He hissed, his fingers pulled the dark locks of his hair creating several knots in the wild mix.

 _I'll be with you till the end of the line…_

Barnes let out a scream of agony as a painful remembrance has finally hit the core of his mind. Blurry images of the past drifted into his view. The war, the fighting, the death, the capture, the cage, and Steve. And then it was the end of it; James became blind in the outburst of emotion and horror that he has experienced before. The veins in his temples pulsed excruciatingly, sending an echo of voices from the past to drown the man in dismay. Before he knew it, Bucky darted back and grabbed onto Steve, curling the fabric of the pale blue shirt into his fists.

"Steve…" He whispered and panted as his dark eyes met the aquamarine sea full of worry. "I know you…"

Steve could not hold back a smile as he gazed down at his old friend. It was a sudden rush of relief as Barnes has finally remembered the dreadful times of war that were filled with bright memories. Now nothing could keep Steve from reasoning with Bucky except perhaps the ancient instinct of self-preservation that the damned Hydra pushed into its best soldier's brain. The bionic arm was still there and it was surely not going anywhere unless Steve brought James to Stark and let him do the magic of technology. The Iron Man would always have a solution to the problem, especially if there was an issue of removing any microchips that would lead Hydra to their favorite subject. Nonetheless, right now it was important to give Bucky the comfort he required for perhaps decades of his imprisonment within the cold walls of his cell. Unfortunately, the wild animal will need time in order to become familiar with a change in the relationship with the world around it, and Steve was sure to guarantee them for the one he cared so much for.

His Bucky.

The warm palms slid up to grasp Barnes's shoulders and stroke them reassuringly. Steve exhaled and brushed the stormy hair back in order to soothe it as best as he could. He could tell that Bucky lacked in sleep and relaxation which would has brought the Winter Soldier to a risk of insanity.

"Bucky, you are finally with me." Steve smiled and squeezed his friend in his arms. The happiness within his chest turned into a significant number of large butterflies with silky wings that tingled Rogers and his senses. A long time has passed since their friendly reunion, and now Steve received the satisfaction of repeating the events, though not at the right surroundings, but it was enough for the man. As long as his Bucky was here next to him, cold and trembling, he would try anything in the world to kill Hydra's influence and finally return the everlasting strong spirit James has had during the war period.

"Steve." Bucky whispered pulling the Captain out of his euphoria and asking to pay attention. "You were my mission. I was supposed to kill you. And yet when I saw you on the street I had the desire to bring you here, to keep you." The soldier frowned as he stared at Steve's broad chest, thinking as if anything he has said made sense. His head still throbbed; occasional ringing would appear in his ear and slowly ease off.

"Your memory has returned to you, triggering the old senses and exaggerating them a little. You punched me in order to get me here; you could have simply pulled your hood down." Steve chuckled and pressed his chin over Bucky's head with a long exhale.

James did not answer; his eyes were staring into the void of the window and the outside gray world. He listened to the beating heart in Steve's chest and wondered if he did silence it by letting the man drown. What then? He would remember him, tell that the mission was a success, and then there will be darkness. Another memory wiping to the point where his brain would perhaps melt; he would forget his name, anything that he has pursued, and the blond haired hero that would constantly repeat his real name, summoning endless pain. The thoughts overwhelmed James and his wrapped his arms around Rogers tightly, unwillingly sending a message that he was not to let go for the next moments. Steve smiled seeing his friend try to find comfort from whatever fear that has taken over his mind again. His muscular arms rested around the soldier, calming the broken toy.

"I am here Buck. Whatever you are thinking, forget it. What matters now is that you and I are together, alive." Steve whispered and pressed his lips over the hot forehead of the other. He felt James jerk from a sudden touch, the metal plates of his bionic arm shifting as a warning that the soldier might strike. Bucky was not used to any touch, his body was trained to kill, to predict any movement, to make sure everything that came in contact with him has suffered. However, the warm lips against his forehead felt right, and so with a great push of his will he surpassed the urge to slam his fist across Captain's face and send him into oblivion.

"I am with you till the end of the line…"

"I've heard that a lot." Bucky smirked and looked up at his friend. "Punk."

"Jerk." Steve grinned and leaned in to plant a kiss on the soldier's lips quickly. It was as if his mind shut itself down and let the instinct do whatever it was in need of. Bucky stared up at Steve after a sudden surprise, question the man with his eyes. Rogers said nothing and only smiled up at his friend. There we bi words needed to be said, not feelings expressed because Steve knew that deep inside his Bucky was aware of the warmth that overwhelmed Captain America.

They continued to stand there, in the arms of each other, their gazes glued to the void as they listened to each other's hearts beat almost in unison.

† † †

"Is it ready yet? Have you found him?" The tall man in a black cloak snarled as he leaned over to gaze at the screens of the bright computers.

"Negative, there is no trace-"

"We found him! He is in the city! The chip is in an excellent condition, sir."

"Wunderbar, trace his microchip and find the exact location. Gather several soldiers and send after him."

"Yes sir!"

"It is time for the child to come back to its mother. Hail Hydra."

"Hail Hydra!"


End file.
